#so I can find it later I need to keep this forever

[phantomrose96]

I'm actually deeply obsessed with the tiny little anecdote Hayward tells about the god Henge and it makes me insane again every time I remember it.

You know the best god I ever met - they called him Henge. He haunted a village up north. He didn’t ask much of you. He liked keepsakes. Things that were no longer useful. Maybe you had a ring you didn’t want to wear any more because it hurt too much. Or you had a key that you weren’t going to use for a very long time, but you wanted to be able to find it again when you did. Or maybe your kid would be born with their eyes and throat shut tight and you didn’t know how to move on. You’d wrap your keepsake in green cotton, and you’d bury under a pile of pebbles in a place only you knew. And you’d make the prayer-marks so that Henge would know just what was being offered. And then one day, years later, when you were ready to pick up whatever you’d left behind but perhaps you didn’t even know it yet yourself, you’d turn and look outside your window, and the ring would be hanging from a tree-branch outside. The key would be resting on your sill. There’d be a newborn child, wrapped in green cotton, resting upon your doorstep. I never understood what Henge wanted with that stuff, but I understood the appeal of going through it. How nice it was to feel that someone had stopped to pick up the things you needed to drop.

The image about the stillborn child just stops me cold like. A child you loved and wanted and is born dead and you can't just part with, can't just accept it, can't find the way to put the work into the funeral and have them gone, forever, to nothing.

That you could put the child down and Henge will just... pick them up. Not save them. Not change what happened. Just give you time to step away. To not need to say "goodbye" to the child yet. To not have to deal, just yet. Just that one day, in the future, when you're ready, whenever that may be, the child would be back on your step for you to bury...

Hayward plays down the ring in his example of just hurting too much but, he plays down the kid too. Is that ring of your dead spouse? A dead family member? What kind of key do you need out of your possession until you're ready - or, Hayward, is this honestly just a strategy to keep something where you yourself can't lose it...? Can it be that simple?

I'm insane about Henge. I'm insane about putting a thing down temporarily, and having a god which will hold it while you can't.

[ylangelegy]

unknown / nth ⭐ minghao x reader.

your boyfriend gives you a language lesson before bed.

★ minghao x translator/interpreter!reader a.k.a the lost in translation couple ★ word count: 1.9k ★ genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, conversation about mandarin (my reference). takes place post-lost in translation! not entirely necessary to have read the fic prior to this. title is from hozier's song of the same name. not proofread. ★ footnotes: minghao did a brief weibo live and i've been missing lost in translation for quite some time now, so i jammed this out really quick 🚬🦆 may write more for/about this couple in the near future, so take this as the first of many! ♡

“I think Cold Love really represents me well. It’s probably because I’m an INFJ.”

You press your palm to your mouth to stifle your laugh. Minghao doesn’t react visibly, but his hand waves at you off-camera. A wordless reminder of Be nice. 

The two of you are across the room from each other— him, perched on the couch of his hotel room, while you’re already tucked in bed. Minghao had promised his fans a quick Weibo live to discuss his most recent EP, leaving you to your own devices for the next hour or so. 

You didn’t mind. It was one of life’s simple joys, listening to your boyfriend talk. 

He spends the next thirty minutes or so discussing his creative process and answering fans’ questions. You don’t bother him, knowing you’ll have all the time in the world later to tease him for some of his remarks. Like his indignance at growing taller or his jabs at his age. 

As you busy yourself with mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you relish in the familiar sound of Minghao’s Mandarin. It’s probably your favorite version of white noise, really. The mellow tone of his voice contrasts the rapid, sharp way that he speaks. Despite being well-acquainted with the language, there are still some words that elude you. You make a mental note to ask Minghao about them later. 

Less than an hour has passed before you hear Minghao beginning to wind down. “Good luck on all of your exams. To the people working, keep working hard! Make lots of money,” he says hurriedly. “And good luck with love, too. I hope you all find someone who loves you back so you can experience all sorts of feelings.” 

He’s never been the type to drag out his goodbyes, so you’re not surprised when— after a final heart sign and wave to the camera— Minghao is finally clocking out of his live. 

Immediately, he slumps back onto the couch like the whole thing had drained him. Sure, lives weren’t necessarily one-sided, but he did have to hard carry when it came to the talking part of the affair. You flash him a sympathetic smile as you sit up in bed. 

���Done, xīngān?” you call out. 

Minghao doesn’t respond right away. You don’t hold it against him. He sometimes needed a moment, needed a minute or two to pull himself together. 

After staring at the ceiling for what feels like forever, Minghao lets out a shuddering exhale. “Done,” he responds, and he’s moving before you can register it. 

He gets to his feet and crosses the room in a few, quick strides. Once he gets to the bed, he wastes no time in reaching for you. His knees sink in the mattress; his hands dart out. 

You let out a slight squeal when Minghao tugs you into him. 

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all. This had been a premeditated act. You can tell in the way his arms immediately snake around your waist. 

You let out a defeated sigh against his chest, but make no move to pull away. “Tired?” you ask, your hands resting on the small of his back as you return his embrace. 

He hums a quiet ‘mhm’. “I’m not built for this anymore, xīngān,” he whines. 

The two of you know that’s a bold-faced lie. Still, you indulge your sulking boyfriend lest he begin to pout even harder. “My poor baby,” you coo, running your hands up and down Minghao’s back in a show of comforting him. “Gonna blame it on being an introvert?” 

“Shut up.” 

You let out a small laugh. You can’t see it, but you swear you can feel the curve of Minghao’s smile as he presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head. 

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “It means a lot.” 

A part of you wants to insist that it’s nothing. It’s not every day that you can steal away to his hotel room, though. In between your own work of interpreting for the boys and working on subtitles for videos, there’s also the added layer of keeping your relationship on the down low. 

Tonight, Minghao had just tried to asked. Texted a couple of hours ago that he wanted to see you. And you could never really deny him anything, not even on your best days. 

“Anything for you,” you respond as you stroke the short hair at his nape. 

Minghao buries his face in the crook of your neck, his smiling mouth warm as he mumbles against your skin. “Don’t give me that much power,” he warns. “I’ll abuse it.” 

You chuckle. “I don’t doubt that.” 

The two of you lapse into another bout of quiet. This had always been your way, even back when the two of you were friends: Comfortable silences, unspoken agreements. Your new relationship had only given you two the carte blanche to be a little more touchy during your shared moments of peace. 

You’re fairly sure that Minghao has fallen asleep when he speaks up again. “How do you think I did?”

“With the live?” 

“No, with cuddling. Yes, with the live.” 

“Ask nicely.”

“Please?” 

You put Minghao out of his misery by returning his earlier gesture— leaving a quick kiss, this time to the line of his jaw. “Stellar as usual,” you reassure him. “I didn’t pick up on everything, though.” 

“That’s new.” Minghao shifts around on the bed until he can prop himself up on one elbow. He rests his chin in his hand but doesn’t stray too far. He stays hovering over you, his free arm remaining around your waist. 

He goes on to goad, “Your Mandarin must be getting rusty.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, shooting him a half-hearted glare. “How can it be rusty,” you retort, slipping into the language as if to prove a point. “When you’re always insisting that we use it?” 

No matter how many times that you speak to him in his mother tongue, Minghao always seems momentarily startled. The surprise always fades into affection, evident in the fond way that he gazes down at you. 

He matches your code switch without missing a beat. “I’ve told you, haven’t I? I love it when you speak Mandarin,” he says, punctuating his words with a quick pinch to your side. 

You swat his hand; he giggles down at you.

“Which parts did you miss out on?” he asks. 

It takes you a moment to recall the terms and phrases you’d wanted to question him about. “撒娇?” you ask, the unfamiliar word sounding almost hesitant on your tongue. Sājiāo.

A thoughtful ‘ahhh’ escapes Minghao. “Think of it like aegyo,” he offers delicately. “It’s— often in the setting of a relationship. Acting cute to be endearing.” 

“Like when you gripe about me not responding fast enough.” 

“Examples aren’t necessary,” he says wryly. “But, yes. Like that.” 

You flash Minghao a grin before snuggling a little closer to him, entangling your legs. The added touch makes his expression softens in the way it only ever does when it’s you. 

“Anything else?” he prompts. 

It’s not everyday that Minghao gets to play the ‘teacher’ role in your relationship. In the beginning, you had been his Korean tutor. In the longer run, you had helped him translate and transpose words that he couldn’t reach. Every so often, you would run to him for some Mandarin help, and you could tell that he relished in the shift in dynamic. 

The thought pushes you to keep asking, even though the words are inconsequential. “You used the term 暖男,” you note. “What was that one?” 

“Nuǎnnán,” he echoes, correcting your intonation. You repeat the word as he said it, and he gives a small smile of approval.

“It’s our version of ‘nice guy’,” he explains. “But it’s rooted a lot in culture. A nuǎnnán is a man who can be considered inherently warm-hearted in an otherwise patriarchal society. And no—” Minghao’s tone takes on a more chiding quality when he sees you about to interrupt. “Do not try to call me a nuǎnnán.” 

You jut out your lower lip slightly. “Why not?” 

The arm that Minghao had around your waist rises, just enough so he can tap the tip of your scrunched nose. “Don’t pull out sājiāo on me,” he scolds. 

It’s not necessary for you to act cute. Your boyfriend would be endeared by you either way. 

You chuckle at being caught, and Minghao’s sternness mellows. “One last.” You hold up a finger as you try to nail the phrase that had first caught your attention. “裸婚?” 

There’s a flicker of surprise on Minghao’s expression. “That was from a fan making a joke,” he warns before repeating the word himself. “Luǒhūn translates to— hear me out, okay?— ‘naked marriage’.” 

The sight of your raised eyebrow draws a sharp laugh from Minghao. “It’s another one of those cultural things,” he says. 

When he doesn’t add onto his words, you shoot him an incredulous look. 

“What?” he asks with feigned innocence.

“That’s it?” you prod. “You’re not going to explain what ‘naked marriage’ means?” 

“You have access to the internet, don’t you?” 

“Xīngān.” 

“That’s me.” 

At Minghao’s continued evasion, you merely huff and give up. It’s getting late, anyway, and he has to be up early in the morning for sound check. Come tomorrow, you’ll have to slip away before anyone can come looking for either of you. The boys aren’t privy to your relationship yet, and God forbid any of the other staff find out.

“Fine,” you say, unable to resist the urge to just be a little haughty. “Let’s go to sleep.” 

Minghao is undeterred by your contempt. If anything, it only makes him smile a little wider, gives him an excuse to pull you into his chest. He goes to cradle the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair. 

You lean into his touch, burying your face into the front of his shirt. There it is again. Those few, precious moments where the two of you can just bask in each other’s presence. 

The silence stretches on this time. You’re properly drowsy by the time Minghao speaks up, his words quiet as he mumbles them against your shoulder. 

“No house, no car, no fancy ring,” he murmurs, his tone contemplative and sleepy. “Luǒhūn.” 

“A naked marriage,” you respond mid-yawn. 

“Mhm.”

“Nothing but love.” 

“You got it.” 

The conversation feels like it’s teetering on the verge of something consequential, something of value. But with the two of you already halfway asleep in each other's arms, there’s not much you can do besides exchange some light pecks and mumbled words.

“I think I’d want at least a house before getting married,” you say. “Or, like, an apartment.”

“What, you wouldn’t live out on the streets with me?” he teases lowly. 

Your eyes flutter close. “You would have to convince me,” you shoot back. 

Minghao responds with a lingering kiss to your forehead. 

“How long will it take to convince you?” 

It’s a little too early in your relationship for the topic of marriage to be seriously brought up. It’s fun to dream about, though. To talk about in hushed tones, to toy with in Minghao’s mother tongue. 

To imagine a time where this might be your every night— falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

“Might take you years and years,” you answer, a giggle rising from the back of your throat. 

Minghao’s arms shake as he laughs. His lips stay on your head, almost like he can’t bear to peel away from you for a minute too long. 

“I don’t mind,” he says as the two of you begin to succumb to sleep. 

The last thing you hear is his affectionate, soft promise of, “I’ll start working on convincing you, xīngān.” 

[seat-safety-switch]

What's your least favourite part of a car? I bet you answered "brakes." Our high-friction foes cost money, rust up whenever your back is turned, ruin friendships in order to bleed, and don't do anything other than slow you down. And, unfortunately, you can't really skip it. At some point, no matter how carefully you drive, you'll have to stop driving in a way that doesn't involve aiming for the nearest snow drift and hoping for the best.

Dealing with brakes has been a bête noire of my entire life. That's French for "pain in the ass." To avoid the hassle of having to free up broken components, grease slide pins, and spend an afternoon spilling hydraulic fluid all over my pants, I'll often drive for long periods of time trying not to use the brakes at all. They'll last way longer this way, you see. This challenge is made somewhat easier by the fact that none of my cars make enough power to quickly reach a dangerous speed.

Even so, I'm not dumb enough to be paying big money to Big Stop when I do finally have to refresh some of my precious friction material. You'll find me at the junkyard, scrabbling half-consumed pads out of crashed cars that look like they might fit mine. This is because I still need good brakes to deal with all of your bullshit. Yeah. It's not my fault people keep popping out in front of me in traffic, especially when trying to pass on the wrong side of the road on blind mountain corners. I've had to learn to be what the drivers-education mafia calls "a defensive driver," pre-emptively anticipating trouble and making sure never to touch that middle pedal when it does eventually rear its head.

When I see people in the left lane dragging their brakes, or flashing their tail lights at me in the middle of a corner, I just frown. Not only are they inconveniencing me by using up my precious fuel-saving momentum, but they're forcing me to take money out of my pocket to pay for brake pads later. I'm practically being robbed, I once complained to a police officer. He responded by using his brakes no less than five times leaving my community after responding to "a more important call." Don't be like him. Stop using your brakes so often, and we can free humanity of the misery of fixing brakes forever.

[idkplzhalp]

Hi guys, here's a long nerdy ramble about my Caroline Portal 2 x Miss Pauling TF2 au/headcanons because I've had thoughts about them for years and TF2 comic 7 awakened it in me again to expand on it further. (This is huge I'm so sorry but I gotta keep my title of biggest CaroPauling shipper and I need to spread my truths). I tried to jam as many facts/reasoning as I could into it because I am Portal lore queen and canon info is so important to me to incorporate.

To start this, both are a bit queercoded (GLaDOS subtext of liking Chell + Pauling lesbian confirmation/subtext) therefore it's nice because they absolutely would get along, relate to each other, and being established as queer makes them fit like puzzle pieces together in my head.

(^ I think Valve artists should keep drawing Caroline so I can continue editing their comic versions together, lol, this is all I got)

I think Pauling after comic 7 should go to work at Aperture Science (since presumably she drops the australium down a trench and is living her life, based on the turkey she sends for the Christmas party- shes made the choice to stop Admins cycle and not be cruel like her) and now lives with Caroline as they run Aperture together being sapphics in loveeee. Also we know Pauling is still unmarried then because she keeps the Ms. term instead of Mrs. on the little card from the turkey (also it's the same last name, obviously). Therefore. Cue Caroline entering the scene, because she's not married either (at least not to Cave).

They could've met during the time of TF2 in 1968 because of the Wheatley Ap-Sap, so maybe they met and got along and then Pauling later remembered Aperture after dumping the australium and was like "Hey this is close enough to working for the Administrator". Like maybe after dumping it, she was left wandering a bit trying to find a place to live and sees a billboard for Aperture which motivates her to go there. She could work as an assistant/bodyguard to Caroline, especially in Caroline's time as CEO, or be taught by her how to work in the lab.

When Cave dies, Pauling could be sad because she knows Caroline could've had similar attachments to him that Pauling did for Admin. So she's A) trying to comfort Caroline while she mourns and B) reliving her own grief from Admin. Maybe trying to convince Caroline to break her own cycle of how Aperture is run or work with her to stop GLaDOS..

If Caroline still gets uploaded to GLaDOS, then have Pauling either A) put in stasis and then later during the co-op tests where they free the humans, GLaDOS tests her and is like "WAIT my wife,,, a woman who wont kill me,, I want her" and now Pauling gets to hang out in GLaDOS' chamber while they test other people, B) keeps the australium to protect it and uses that to live forever alongside GLaDOS, or C) is uploaded into a core, it could be the core in The Lab core calibration game that's late and ran to get to the slingshot test since Pauling and that core share a voice actress (Ashly Burch)! It could be that she has less in-depth functions because we know when a person is uploaded to a smaller computer, they don't retain all their memories or full functionality unless they are then switched to a larger mainframe like GLaDOS/CaveDOS (ex: Cave in Aperture Desk Job, unless we want Lego Dimensions Cave core or Cave cube to count too, which contradicts this). So we could make things tragic and have Pauling not remember anything from her human life/GLaDOS could be unsatisfied because we know she more often has romantic feelings for humans (Chell or if including Lego Dimensions then Batman (from the Jonathan Coulton interview on the end song)) and they're now trying to fix it so they fit together again. Maybe GLaDOS gives Pauling GLaDOS' old mainframe seen in co-op mode.

Though Pauling would have to deal with the personality shift from Caroline to GLaDOS and maybe is scared of her because it reminds her of Admin, although GLaDOS wouldn't be as abusive to her and maybe it adds something because of how almost in love/obsessed Pauling was with Admin (trying to stay with her for so long/thinking Admin isn't that bad/trailing her no matter what). It could be complex because Pauling is fighting memories of past trauma with Admin while trying to maintain her relationship with GLaDOS. Maybe Pauling could bring out Caroline's personality more? Pauling is also a bit like Chell (ex: very determined fighter) therefore I'm just gonna say that's GLaDOS' type aha.

Back to the human versions now. Because Pauling got a first name reveal, Flo, we could have Caroline take on her last name, since we don't know Caroline's last name already. Lesbian marriage solving a name crisis 💀. Caroline Pauling doesn't sound that bad!

I think these two would just work really well together since they've had similar experiences and could support eachother/understand eachother like they haven't had before. To me they're both neurodivergant so I feel they could bond over their interests/teach eachother cool stuff. Like Caroline teaches Pauling science and Pauling teaches her about weaponry. Also they could do the activities that Pauling listed doing with friends "skating, look at gun catalogs". Because of that I used to headcanon that Pauling rollerskates and Caroline ice-skates so they do those together. Also Gargoyles and Gravel! They'd dress up as a wizard and witch together when playing or something haha. Also the assistants clipboard of the year conference Pauling goes to with Bidwell, she could go with Caroline and Greg and they all fight over office supplies as they should be. Maybe Caroline teaches Pauling how to bake!

I think working at Aperture, Caroline either wasn't able to defend herself verbally or wasn't listened to, not really being considered or appreciated by the other employees. She's considered modest so I think she was likely conditioned to not appreciate what she did. She's brilliant and incredibly intelligent but being a woman in that position during that time, she was probably ignored by anyone who wasn't Cave a lot. So I'd like to think if she wasn't being listened to and Cave wasn't around, Pauling could swoop in and tell those people off since she's really blunt and will tell things how it is (like in the tough break update when the guy flirted with her and she told him to leave because she was getting people killed for money), and is now a scary guard dog privilege to Caroline, even if Pauling is still a tiny anxious woman and Caroline can probably fend for herself lol.

Uhhhhh and heck, let's send Cave's other assistant Greg to go help Bidwell and Reddy in running Mann Co. That could be really funny to see, I feel they'd all get along. They're slightly more rational than Hale so I think it would be interesting to see what they do with this insane company!

Okay I'm done now, pls tag me in any CaroPauling posts you see because I'm saving them all to my phone to look at them lovingly, I have a collection lol <3.

[diazsdimples]

Buck owes Karen and Hen a fruit basket or something. No. A fancy dinner reservation or a spa day. Hell a spa weekend. Anyway the point is they saved his ass in a major way. He’s been looking *everywhere* with Liam trying to find a few things to make Liam’s “room” (if you can call a cleared out space in Buck’s living room a bedroom… whatever, he’s working on it ok?) somewhat homey.

Pottery Barn Kids, Target, department stores. Everywhere they’ve been has been one disappointment after another. Liam hates all of it. Forest friends? Too babyish. Trucks? Not even an interested glance. Race cars? Liam buried his face in his blanket he refuses to let go of and made the most pitiful sound Buck thinks he’s ever heard.

He snaps a pic and sends it to the 118 group chat.

Guys what am I gonna do?

While Everyone tells him not to panic and that Liam needs more time, it’s Karen’s response that gets his attention.

She sends an address for a kids furniture store on the outskirts of town. I recognize that blanket. Denny had one just like it forever ago.

Buck carefully gathers and bundles his sad little ward into the jeep. And they drive. He prays to anyone who’s listening before they step in the shop. Liam’s eyes light up as he takes off towards a display of stuffies. Buck chases after him and sees what they are up close.

“The Wild Things,” he murmurs.

He shoots off another text. This time with a covert photo of Liam staring reverently.

Thank me later. Go be with your boy 💙

Hippo, how dare you use Liam's love of Where the Wild Things Are against me 😭 I am a little puddle of soft and gooey.

Liam picks out a stuffy of his most favourite Wild Thing and turns to Buck with shining eyes, and asks so so quietly "can I have him, please?"

Buck ruffles Liam's hair, saying "of course you can, kid," before plucking another one out and handing him to Liam. "But I think he needs a friend. This one is my favourite."

Liam just stands there, a stuffy under each arm, a look of awe on his face, before asking Buck, "I can have two?" So quietly that Buck can hardly hear him. And Buck's heart just melts, because that's when he realises that Christ, he'd move heaven and earth to make this kid - his son - happy.

They pick out a few more things for Liam's room - a lampshade and a duvet/comforter set - and ask Liam happily walks to the till, his eyes shining with delight and a renewed spring in his step, Buck takes a photo and sends it off to Eddie with the caption "it's official, I have the cutest kid ever."

He receives a photo while they're driving home, of Chris and Eddie both pouting hard at the camera, with a text following announcing that they're going to come over and help Liam set up his new space. And maybe play video games, if Buck will be a "super cool and nice dad that loves his son and lets him do fun things" (according to Chris). Liam keeps his favourite Wild Thing tucked under his arm at all times, but Buck notices that he's more relaxed now, and seems more excited to make his space his own.

And if Buck goes and has a little cry in his bathroom after Liam wraps his arms around his leg and whispers "Thank you, Buck," then that's between him and his bathroom mirror.

[potato-lord-but-not]

Hello I am tipsy at a wedding and my first thought was "boy oh boy looking at potatolord ard would fuck right now". So I proceeded to show the two grooms fan art of eldtrich entity and polycule getting it on sloppy style. They said your art has a certain "homey" feel. Don't ask me what that means I am off to dance and drink more. Cheers

I’m fucking speechless

[ssruis]

Going through a straight up comical amount of irritating situations to get the stupid 4* guaranteed ticket from the welcome to sekai campaign. It Will Be Mine.

[sayheykid]

i genuinely don't think a story's worldbuilding and lore has ever drawn me in the way that check please did. it's been years and i still think about it every day. the characters and plot were always superb but i think what has stuck with me the most is the depth of the settings and how everything feels so lived in and tangible. everyone wants to make a fake world and town and university but no one else has EVER done it that well

[skyburger]

WHAT THE HELL NOBODY EVER TOLD ME TWO OF MY FAVE VILLAGERS GOT A LINE STICKER TOGETHER. ive loved tabby for YEARS like since 2019 at LEAST. and these stickers are from 2018 how did i not know !!! i love tabby and boots so much 😭😭😭 TABBY AND BOOTS ANIMAL CROSSING I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHH OOMFS FOREVER AND EVER

[musical-chick-13]

.

[medicinemane]

Well, I seem to have gotten my minecart system working. No lost carts this time

Just... slowed the whole system way way way down, after a lot of research the best answer seems to be that too many carts too quick overwhelms the hopper, and taking a closer look as I was dismantling things showed me that the observer was managing to send two pulses

So I added my go to comparator decay clock and then with a little work put a falling edge monostable circuit (ie a piston with an observer on it that triggers nothing when pushed but something when pulled back), so basically it's extended when the signal is decaying and only goes off once the signal dies... double pulse from the observer just extends the timer

Still reasonably depressed. I've said it before, I'm just brittle at this point. It's not like some stupid cart system in minecraft is making me want to die... I'm just fucking tired of living, so guess what? This just adds to the list of reasons to fuck off

Nothing I do matters. This doesn't matter in the slightest. I build it more compulsively than with any purpose

I want to finish that mountain base (which is still probably a few years off at least at this pace), and I just kinda want to finish it cause I want to finish it... but can you honestly say that once it's all said and done, that I won't just pass it to my friend who I play with, and then in like 20 years when I'm dead it won't fall victim to digital decay without anyone even having seen it?

Like be honest for a minute, it's not gonna stop me working on it, but be honest and ask yourself... will anyone besides one other person even see it?

I don't need a million fans or something, I'd just like some of the shit I do to matter or last a bit... and nothing does

Tell me a single thing I've done that actually has some kind of meaningful impact... or anything that I'll ever do

[rosefulmadness]

aziraphale just watched so many people that he barely knew but saw on the daily die, then he reunited with the one person he does know but rarely sees, crowley, and when they meet again after so long he hands him what could very much be a suicide letter.

I 100% understand his reaction to the whole holy water thing. my dude just saw so much death, and when he thinks he's safe (cause he's with crowley), his crush bestie asks him for help to die.

Good Omens Historical Trivia That's Haunting Me Today...

So we all know A.Z. Fell & Co is located on the fictitious Whickber Street in Soho and was established in 1800.

Aziraphale has run the shop ever since then and was in contact with Crowley at least until the 1820's when they took their little jaunt to Edinburgh and Crowley got sucked down the tube slide to Hell. They meet up again no later than the 1860's, when Crowley asks for Holy Water.

Stands to reason that between the 1820's and 1860's Aziraphale was in Soho doing Aziraphale things. Running his bookshop. Eating tiny cakes

Yeah... you know what else was going on in Soho during that time?

The worst cholera epidemic in London history.

If you don't know, cholera is a deadly bacterial infection caused by drinking contaminated water. Prior to the 1850's humans weren't really sure what caused cholera, but they knew it was terrifying and also that it was absolutely epidemic in big cities.

TW: this is gross - The main symptoms of cholera are agonizing stomach pain and non-stop watery diarrhea, eventually leading to the skin turning blue due to the thickening of blood from severe dehydration. Patients can lose more than 20% of their body weight in hours as they quite literally evacuate every drop of water in their bodies until they die of heart failure. - OK gross part over

Cholera symptoms show up as short as 5 hours after infection and could kill within as little as 12 hours. Cholera was especially terrifying because of how quickly and painfully it killed you, and because the patient maintained mental clarity up until the point of death. More than half of the people who contracted cholera died within a few days after consuming the bacteria-contaminated water.

And guess what water had cholera bacteria in it?

The public water pump on Broad Street in Soho in August of 1854

And this wasn't one of those epidemics that starts slowly and drags on. It hit like a bomb. It killed 600 Soho residents in ten days.

That's roughly 60 people a day in a 3-4 block area. Most of them died at home because the disease struck too quickly for them to to make it to a hospital. Survivors described hearses stacked with coffins 4-5 high going down the street nonstop all day long during the outbreak. Entire families were wiped out overnight.

What does that have to do with Good Omens?

Aziraphale's book shop was right in the epicenter of this outbreak.

Neil Gaiman has been pretty free about the fact that Whickber Street is a thinly veiled expy of the real Berwick Street in Soho.

This is a famous map showing the 1854 Soho Cholera epidemic. I highlighted Berwick Street and the public water pump that was the center of the contagion. The black bars (I circled a few in blue) on the map designate deaths. The thicker the black bar, the more people died in that particular house.

51 people died the week of the cholera outbreak on Aziraphale's Street alone.

Cholera was one of those diseases that provoked a lot of panic, not just because of how fast and painful it was, but because of the way it didn't follow common conventions about class or age. Children died while the elderly survived (often because the elderly had no one to gather water for them). Lower class houses were spared while their middle class landlords died. Churches were packed that week, because people in Soho had no idea who would get sick next. The epidemic pretty much burned itself out in a week and a half, since by that point everyone who drank the water had already died. I have to wonder what our resident Angel was up to during that time. Obviously cholera can't hurt him, but that's his neighborhood. There's no way hundreds of people, including entire families with children, are dying painfully in his neighborhood and Aziraphale doesn't notice. That means that in between this scene:

And this one:

Aziraphale would have watched one of the worst disease outbreaks in London history play out right outside his front door. I feel like there's great potential for a good story there if anyone better than me wants to write it.

[jaejoongs-nipple-piercing]

I miss my grandma so much. I didn't cry over her as much as I thought I would, but I do still really miss her. Things wouldn't be so much worse for us if she was still here. I hate that I didn't spend more time with her, and that the only reason I didn't is because she didn't look like Grandma anymore. I know people with cancer go through lots of changes where their appearance is concerned, but I couldn't visit her in the hospital due to work and transportation issues, and then when she was still at her house I didn't go to visit because I really believed she would get better. I even texted her once, asking her to please get better because I didn't want to lose her and she said she would be better. As an adult I shouldn't have believed that but I had foolishly hoped that she was right, that she would be better soon and would kick cancer's butt. Her sister- my mom's deranged aunt- beat cancer at least twice, so why couldn't my grandma? Even during the end when we were all saying goodbye, I couldn't think of any good memories, I could only think of how mean and rude she was during the time we were living in her house with her. I only remembered the good, fun things from my childhood after.

Like, my mom having to take me over to my grandma's house for the whole day whenever she decided to clean the house because otherwise I would stand in the middle of the room telling my mom "no" and where things are supposed to be because even to this day I still hate changes. Even if it's just a minor change, like getting laid off or having an appliance break down because it affects all of us.

Losing grandma was much worse than when her husband- my mom's stepfather- passed. I did promise her both before and after her passing that I would get my drivers' license and my own vehicle and go visit her, and I'm still working on it but I hope to have my license before the end of next year.

I miss you so much, Grandma, but I hope you are cancer free now and you can have as many conversations with Uncle Edward and mom's real father as you want. I'm so sorry I didn't come and visit you more, I should have known that day in the hospital when you told me it was ok that I didn't come into your room that something was wrong because normally you would have said something like "no you just don't want to" because you never took no for an answer and I knew that the whole time growing up and being around you. I miss all the sleepovers, making raisins from grapes by letting them sit out in the sun, picking all those blackberries with you and then eating half of them on the short walk back into the house. Everything. I miss everything my siblings and I did with you when we were kids and I'm so mad that someone decided it was a good idea to take all my grandparents away.

[neverendingford]

.

[sena-seastar]

Heart to Heart

Aemond x Wife Reader

Summary: Aemond spends time with your child so that you can have a much-needed break.

A/N: I'm back with more, Dad!Aemond, because I adore him so much. Aemond deserves someone who will love him as deeply and unconditionally as he loves them, and his baby definitely would. (Also, any dialogue in italics means the characters are speaking in high valyrian. I was too lazy to attempt to translate it.) No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes.

“Daenys, please calm down,” you plead as you try to pacify the wailing girl.

Though your words seem to fall on deaf ears, she continues to scream and flail in your arms. You want nothing more than to join in as tears well in your eyes. You were at your wit's end. Nothing seemed to placate your child. Not even the sweets you had tried to bribe her with. 

The nursemaids had changed her nappy several times. They’ve tried feeding, bathing, offering toys, and even taking her for a walk in the gardens. Yet none of it worked. They brought her to you as a last resort, hoping she might be missing her mother. Unfortunately, their hopes went unfounded.

Daenys continued to thrash in your arms, and you struggled to keep a grip on her. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small. 

“Shh, it’s alright,” you coo, bouncing the fussy girl in your arms. “Are you tired? Shall we take a nap?”

Your questions only incite her fury. Daenys lets out an ear-splitting screech. You groaned, eyes closing in frustration at the situation. 

“How about we give your mother a break, hmm?”

You look up, finding your husband now standing before you. He takes your little girl into his arms, and for the first time in forever, she settles down. She doesn’t squirm and try to get away from him, and her wails turn into low whimpers and quiet hiccups. You watch as he handles her with such ease. Aemond pats her back and talks to her in a soothing voice, gently bouncing her in his arms. Daenys rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny fists held tightly onto his coat.

“I’m terrible at this,” you huffed, shame blooming in your chest. 

“No, you’re not.” Aemond leaned down, pressing a gentle, reassuring kiss to your head. “I’ll take her for a bit. Get some rest.”

You nod, grateful for his help. He waves Daenys’ hand towards you as they leave. You wave back until the pair disappear from your view. You sigh in relief as your body slumps onto the Grecian couch beneath you. You debate whether to continue with your book or take a quick nap.

-

Aemond holds Daenys close to his chest as he maneuvers himself off his saddle. Ser Rickard Thorne stands to the side, wearing his freshly polished armor and pristine white cloak. Aemond nods at him, and the white knight quickly takes Aemond’s horse by the reins, leading the horse away.

The dragon lord looked down, watching Daenys as she toyed with the wooden dragon in her hands. He smiled. The familiar warm fuzzy feeling that filled his entire body every time he laid his eyes on her returned. It was hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent could come from him. But here she was. The two of you had created something- someone so precious. 

A loud grumble sounded in the air. Aemond lifted his head, observing Vhagar. The giant dragon was hard to miss, even from a great distance.

The overgrown grass and twigs squish and cackle beneath his boots as he walked into the open field where the ancient she-dragon resided. Vhagar had outgrown the dragonpit years before he had even claimed her. Vhagar turned her giant head to the side, watching them as they approached. She shut her eyes again when she realized it was just him.

Daenys let out a delighted squeal when her eyes finally landed on the giant dragon. Aemond struggled to hold her as she excitedly kicked her legs and waved her arms. Aemound cursed under his breath as the wooden dragon toy fell to the ground. Oh well, he would retrieve it later.

“What is it, my little dragon?” He asked enthusiastically. “What do you see?”

 Daenys clapped her little hands and babbled, “Vava!”

“Vhagar? Do you see Vhagar?”

She looks up to him and nods her head. Her violet eyes lock onto his, and the two smile at each other. Aemond planted a kiss on the girl’s temple, gaining sweet, girlish giggles in response.

“Very good, my little dragon. It is Vhagar.”

Daenys begins to squirm in his arms and tries to push him away.

“What is it? Do you want down?”

Aemond looks down at the grass, checking for any potential dangers. Your little girl grunts and continues to try to push him away.

Aemond huffs, “Alright, alright.”

His lips curve downward into a slight frown. The two of you had been very proud and excited when Daenys started walking. However, Aemond was a little saddened by the fact that his sweet little girl didn’t want to be in his arms all the time anymore.

His mother had told him that it’s normal for them to want to be more independent when they start walking. The man understood that, but he still did not like it one bit.

Aemond carefully lowers the little girl to her feet. Her chubby little fingers hold onto his hands as she tries to stabilize herself. When she finally stops wobbling, she lets go. Aemond’s heart races in his chest as he watches her take a small, shaky step forward. His hands immediately reach out to grab her, but he stops himself.

Daenys takes another step; this time, she’s a bit more stable. She holds her arms out, trying to balance her weight as she trots forward. Aemond follows closely behind. With each step, he felt a twinge of panic in his chest. The man struggled not to swoop her into his arms every time she stumbled.

Thankfully, they made it to Vhagar rather quickly. Vhagar gave a small huff as Daenys small hands smacked against her snout. 

“Gentle,” Aemond warned sternly, well aware of his dragon's short temper. 

The man kneeled next to her. He took one of Daenys little hands into his own, showing her how to pet Vhagar’s snout carefully. Daenys let out another excited squeal that made Aemond wince. 

“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s very exciting, but we must be quiet.”

Daenys pulled her hand away from his, wanting to try it alone. Vhagar remained still, resting lazily on her chin. Aemond stood back up. He rested his large palm against her warm green scales with a joyous smile. She truly is a sight to behold.

Vhagar was the largest and fiercest dragon in the world. Nothing could stand against her. And yet she decided that he, of all people, was worthy of her. That he deserved the privilege to call himself her rider. No one could question or deny his worth now.

“Vava, pay?”

Aemond looked down, watching as his little girl tried to get the dragon’s attention. Her silver curls fell onto her face. The man reached down, pushing the strands of hair behind her ears. He felt a bit sorry for her. Vhagar was nowhere near as active as Daenys' little hatchling, who resided in the dragon pit. She did not flap her wings or let out any shrieks of excitement like Daenys’ hatchling did when they saw each other.

Daenys tugged on his coat. She turned her head up to look at him. Her brows were drawn together, and her bottom lip protruded further than her top lip. The look on her face tugged at his heartstrings.

“Play? No, Vhagar does not want to play.”

Your little girl does not seem to accept his answer. She turns her attention back to the dragon, gently petting her scales a few more times. Daenys tries calling out to her again, but Vhagar still gives no response. Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea. Aemond initially planned to take her to the dragon pit, but he decided against it. Mostly because he wanted to come out and visit Vhagar. He could seldom go a day without coming to see his winged companion. 

Suddenly, a loud grumble echoed in Vhagar’s throat. The dragon, finally having enough of the child’s affection, raised her head. Daenys, who was balancing herself on Vhagar’s head, fell back, landing on her bottom with a loud oomph.

“Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī,” Aemond commanded as he swiftly took Daenys into his arms.

Vhagar did not move, nor did she make a sound. The ancient dragon merely eyed the two of them. When Aemond felt confident enough that she would not act, he turned his attention to Daenys.

The look on her face is heart-wrenching. Her wide eyes filled with tears, and her trembling lips stretched into a deep frown. Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry. It makes Aemond feel like he wants to cry as well. He pressed a kiss to the child’s temple.

“Don’t cry, my little love. You’ll be alright.” He tried to reassure her.

She blinks, and tears fall from her violet eyes. Sad, quiet whimpers escape from her lips. Tears started to well up in Aemond’s eye, his breath quivered, and a lump formed in his throat. He was never one to cry. It made him feel weak and small, something he despised more than anything. 

But when his little girl was upset like this, he wanted to cry. Sometimes, he still wanted to cry even when she wasn’t upset. There were many times when he would just watch her while she played or slept, and then suddenly, he would be hit with a massive wave of emotions. Aemond wondered if Viserys had ever felt that way when he looked at him or any of his siblings.

Vhagar let out a loud huff. A wave of hot air engulfs Aemond and Daenys. Aemond looks up, observing Vhagar carefully. The green dragon lowers her head, gently nudging her snout against the crying girl. Aemond raises his hand to wipe away Daenys’ tears.

“Look, she’s sorry for making you sad.”

Daenys sniffled and turned to look at Vhagar. The corners of her mouth turned upwards. She giggled as she rested her forehead against Vhagar’s snout. Her little arms did their best to hug the dragon’s giant head. 

Aemond chuckled lightly, raising his hand to give Vhagar a few rewarding pats. His chest was bursting with pride as he watched his favorite girls interact. The only one who was missing was you.

[avocad1s]

The Gnosis Can Wait

Requested By: No one. Original work.

CW: 5.0 spoilers below this line!!! 5.0 spoilers below this line! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

Summary: After his battle with Mavuika, Capitano was left injured. He retreats wanting to replan his strategy when he runs into you, the Creator, who had just descended to Teyvat.

Note: So how are you all liking Natlan? As of right now I think it’s okay only because I want to return to Fontaine 😞

Capitano wasn’t used to the taste of defeat.

As number one in the Fatui harbingers and the strongest amongst them no doubt, he is used to winning every match he partakes in. Or for his opponents to concede before the battle even begins.

Yet he doesn’t take it to heart, he knows the outcomes of every battle can differ in many different ways and he isn’t arrogant about his strength.

Mavuika was a God after all. Even though his power rivals hers, he knew he would have to best her with a foolproof strategy and it seemed barging in wasn’t the right one. She was a worthy opponent.

Capitano returns to his camp, the pain in his chest still burning from the small wound Mavuika left on him. He can wait, once his wound heals then he will strike her again, only this time he won’t miss. At least he has an ally in his pocket keeping him up to date on all the politics within Natlan.

“My lord,” Capitano’s right hand, Rezanov begins while bowing. “We found footprints nearby. We believe someone might stumble into camp soon…”

Capitano lets out a sigh underneath his mask, “how many people?”

“We believe only one, there’s only one track of footprints.”

Only one person? Nothing really to worry about. Unless this person is returning to tell the Archon his location.

“Find them and bring them here.” He orders and Rezanov nods and quickly takes off.

———

Okay… don’t freak out. Don’t freak out…

You just woke up in Genshin Impact.

You remember waiting impatiently by your PC for the newest update to the game, but you must’ve fallen asleep while waiting. Now you were dreaming about the it? Jeez, even in your own dreams you thought about the game. You really needed to touch grass. (lol jk jk luv you all)

You were dreaming about Natlan… a nation that you haven’t even played yet. You couldn’t have had a dream about your favorite nation? Or meeting all your favorite characters?

But everything felt so real. Even after watching the trailer and the leaks you’ve seen online, there’s no way you could know such detail about the nation. Maybe it was just your mind filling in the gaps…

“Stop right there!”

You turn around and your blood runs immediately cold. It was two fatui skirmishers and one fatui agent. You don’t even know the amount of times you’ve killed these enemies for their drops or just for the fun of it.

So this is how you die… at least this is better than falling into the claws of Childe, who you’d beat up anytime you built a new character.

“Our lord the Captain will deal with you, come with us with no fight.”

Scratch that. This was much, much worse…

“Wait… isn’t that…?” One of them whispered.

They put down their weapons, looks of remorse on their faces.

“Your Grace… please for give our imprudence we had no idea it was you…” Rezanov. “Please come with us, the Captain would be delighted to see you.”

Right… you’ve read fanfics like this before. Believing you’re their Creator… you wonder if your blood was gold. Perhaps you could check later. For now, you were going to follow them, it’s not like Capitano has appeared in the game you can get a first time look at him.

You follow the trio deeper into the forest, a small fireplace in the distance, you could only assume the Captain would be there.

“My lord, we found who was trailing around camp. Their Grace has decided to bless us with their presence on Teyvat once more.”

Capitano turns around and say nothing for what felt like forever. Even with the helmet, you knew he was staring intently at you.

“Your Grace.” He finally says, his voice much softer than you ever expected. “I am honored to be in your presence.”

He approached, towering over you.

“You three. Fetch Their Grace some food—“ he looks down at you once more. “And a change of clothes.”

You feel embarrassment creep up your neck. What’s wrong with your pajamas? Could he tell they weren’t from this word?

He holds out his hand, and you take it being able to feel the warmth underneath the glove. This dream was much realer than you thought…

Capitano leads you to his large tent holding the flaps open so you could enter. “We weren’t expecting your arrival so I apologize for the lack of preparations…”

You shake your head, “everything is fine.” Not like you’d be here forever…

“You can have my tent You Grace, I will camp outside.” He adds.

You furrow your eyebrows, “this tent is big enough for two people, can’t we just share it?”

Capitano doesn’t say nothing for a moment, you fear you’ve might’ve offended him with your offer but it was the complete opposite. Capitano felt as if he was on top of the world, to share a camp with the Creator? To be able to protect you? To see your sleeping face…

He feels his cheeks grow crimson and he is eternally grateful for his helmet. “Of course, if that’s what you wish Your Grace…”

The flaps to the tent open and Rezanov enters the tent. “My lord, we've received word that the Pyro Archon has lost much of her power.”

“Although your injury complicates things, this is most certainly the opportune time to seize the Gnosis...”

Capitano was slightly irritated with his subordinate’s unwarranted entry but he wouldn’t do anything yet, not while you were right in front of him.

“The Gnosis can wait, we have more important matters…” he replies, his focus never leaving you.

© avocad1s 2024

Note: Capitano was the highlight of Natlan for me. Sorry but i’m a Fatui Harbinger glazer 😞 why’d they make them so fine? It’s not fair… Now here’s to hoping my man is playable, saving all my primos for him so he better not disappoint.

Edit: I know Mavuika isn’t a God but I’m thinking Capitano wouldn’t know that since she’s the only one of the Seven that isn’t a one which is where I went with this fic